


Penance

by truerowdyvoid



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Cunnilingus, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fingering, Hurt/Comfort, because i love.... trans representation, the cry and they cuddle and then they fuck idk what to tell you, trans!Orsino
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 08:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13830114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truerowdyvoid/pseuds/truerowdyvoid
Summary: After the destruction of Kirkwall, Hawke and friends set sail for brighter horizons. But Hawke has lost a home (again) and Orsino has lost the mages he was responsible for protecting (again). This story follows the two in their need for closure.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really dig the idea that Orsino didn't die at the end of DA2 and that detail was made up by Varric to protect him. I wanted to explore what it would be like if he left town with Hawke, and how the two would react to all the Suffering™ over time. Also make them a couple because of course.
> 
> Keep in mind that this particular Hawke is very much blue/diplomatic Hawke, very earnest and loyal to a fault. The kind of person who puts their heart into everything, because they just think it's the right thing to do. The kind of person who will swear on their family honor to be your bro for life.
> 
> A note on the fact that I made Orsino trans... I know there's a particular #discourse about him possibly being trans due to his in-game model having a "feminine" body type. I don't support that reasoning, because I feel it promotes a very specific idea of what a trans body is supposed to look like. To gender and sex a body based on its shape is... troubling to me. So why did I make him trans? I don't think there needs to be a rationale behind it. I like trans representation, and I think there's value in finding trans bodies beautiful and desirable but still presenting the character as well-rounded and nuanced. That's really it.
> 
> I've also written a hell of a lot of fic about Orsino and been too embarrassed to post it but uh... 80 pages of shame later, here's some of it. Have at it.

The sea air stung the cuts on Hawke’s face. Healing magic could only do so much when she was exhausted, and while the blood of battle had been wiped away, the exposed layers of skin were still sensitive to salt. It wasn’t until they began hurting worse that she realized she was crying as well.

_Kirkwall, the damned shithole._ She could hear Varric’s voice, echoing through the Hanged Man a few weeks prior. _Stinks to high heaven, never a quiet moment, and something’s always on fire._

_And don’t get me started on the people_ , she’d goaded, very much intending to get him started on the people.

_Oh, the people! Please, everyone on the street leers at you like you either killed their mother, fucked their wife, or both. Not to mention how ugly they are. Inside and out. They’re most selfish, ignorant, destructive assholes I have ever had the displeasure of knowing._

_Us included,_ Hawke concurred.

_Oh, of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way, kid._

She chewed at her lip nearly hard enough to set it bleeding. Ragging on the nature of the place was a citywide pastime. Varric liked to joke that the town motto was _Kirkwall: Where Dreams Go to Die._ Everyone knew it sucked. That was the single unifying factor within its population: you’re stuck in hell together, you may as well confide in the other poor unfortunate souls.

It was, of course, how she’d ended up befriending the others on the ship.

Fenris: bitter, tired, new in town.

Merrill: struggling to adjust to life outside her clan, though at least her new alienage included more than just herself.

Isabella: hiding her perpetual discomfort with drinks and drama, to the point where even Hawke didn’t know how many of the stories were true.

Anders:....

She clutched her skirt, nails digging through the light fabric into her thighs. The memory of what he’d done jolted her like a bolt to the chest. He was, of course, with them - Garrett wouldn’t have it any other way. Even as bits of the Chantry still rained down upon them, her twin brother was making eyes at the revolutionary, and she knew in that moment that there was nothing that could be done to tear the two apart. No matter what anyone told him, she knew that Garrett would always be loyal, adoring, and irrevocably proud of his boyfriend. Not that she was much better. Was it simply the consequence of them being twins that they fell in love in such similar patterns? Or was this a running theme in the Hawke lineage as a whole? She thought of her mother, fleeing the city with an apostate-

No. There’s no time for that.

Regardless, it was both irksome and oddly satisfying that her romance with Orsino was just as deeply rooted as Garrett’s with Anders. On one hand, she had no room to criticize her brother beyond playful chiding - that was, of course, immediately turned on her. On the other, it only strengthened their sibling bond. Nothing in this world was guaranteed, not the next day, not even the next hour. She knew that. In such a hostile plane, it was comforting to know the only thing that could separate her from her remaining blood family was death. 

Though of course, these days with death creeping behind them at all hours, readying to pounce, perhaps that wasn’t as much of a comfort as it used to be. 

The sun was setting, they sky the same pinkish color as her favorite dress. Maker, how she’d miss wearing that outfit. Going to formal functions as one of Kirkwall’s Champion Duo was a drag, but at least it gave her an excuse to take a break to clean up. There was something deeply soothing about the pre-event beauty routine, which she would never allocate the time to otherwise. Having baby-soft skin didn’t kill slavers, after all.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of squabbling. She was tempted to mistake it for the gulls overhead, but knew that it would do no good: the peace among her friends had been disrupted. She ran to the other end of the ship, counting those she passed on the way to narrow down who could be fighting. _Not Isabella, not Merrill, not - oh, dear._

“You had no right-”

“That’s more or less the point, wasn’t it?” Anders snapped. The man was haggard, gaunt, and his scarecrow-like frame had nearly a foot on Orsino’s diminutive height, but that didn’t stop either of them from getting in each other’s faces. “None of us had rights! None of us _have_ rights! But at least now they can’t claim we do!”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You think they’ll treat us better after you destroyed their building and murdered their leaders? At least we’ve been alive until now, which is more than I can say for whatever’s sure to follow.”

“What kind of life have you lived, cooped up in the Gallows? That’s no life! You just don’t know any better!”

The words clearly stung Orsino, and Hawke felt a twinge as well. That had always been his biggest worry, that having spent his whole life in the Circle had granted him a sizeable blindspot. _Anders, what are you trying to do here?_

“That’s enough-” Hawke started, but they ignored her.

“You don’t know all that much yourself! What have you done that makes you think-”

“I’ve helped people! Far more than you have! Because I actually care about mages!”

“You don’t care about mages! You care about apostates!” Anders paused, and Orsino took the chance to continue, “You care about people like you, people who got lucky enough to escape the Circle’s grasp. What of people like me and those in _my_ care? Mages all the same, but you were perfectly fine with dooming us and running the hell away in the wake of it all.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying in this world long enough to help-”

“And isn’t that still running away? You can’t - you can’t just make the choice for all of us! You can’t just… just place a death sentence on our heads and walk away!”

“You’re just mad it wasn’t you!” Anders countered. “You just wish you weren’t such a coward!”

Hawke had never seen Orsino as angry as he was when his fist slammed into Anders’ jaw with a solid _thwack_ . The apostate evidently hadn’t expected their spat to get physical, because he froze a moment in shock, before grabbing the other man by the shoulders. At this point, Hawke knew she had to intervene, and in the same moment her brother grabbed Anders by the waist and hoisted his gangly frame into the air. Likewise, Hawke wrenched her own lover away from the brawl, still surprised he’d actually _punched_ Anders, completely forgoing the magic they both had that was the root of all these issues in the first place.

“Can you control your man?” Garrett growled.

“ _You_ control _your_ man!” Hawke snapped. “Mine didn’t destroy the city, don’t push this on-”

“ _QUIET!_ ” Fenris bellowed, stepping between them. They all froze, and Hawke realized she’d never seen Fenris, truly, without the restraint of fear, _angry._ His voice shook her to her core. “You’re all acting like children! Don’t any of you shits understand that you aren’t helping?” Scowling, he took a step toward Hawke and Orsino. “If you two can’t stop instigating, I’m going to lock you below deck. And _you-_ ” he swung on Garrett, “stop playing at revolution and be thankful I haven’t thrown your idiot apostate overboard by now. Now get away from each other, and don’t interrupt. We’re having a hard enough time navigating as is.”

Without speaking, an agreement was reached between the two parties - they would collect themselves at opposite ends of the ship. Legs hanging through the railing, Hawke watched the wake of the ship trailing behind them. Though it was interrupted by the crash of waves, it never truly left. For his part, Orsino had his back to the water, head tilted back slightly, staring aimlessly at the darkening sky ahead.

“What,” she finally sighed, “can I say or do to help?”

“What can any of us do to help? It’s all gone.” His voice was dull, almost Tranquil in tone. The dark thought caused a flutter of rueful laughter in Hawke’s chest, though it didn’t leave her mouth.

“Not _that_ . What can I say or do to help _you_ , in this moment, to suffer less?”

He was silent for a long while, eventually shaking his head.

“You never stop surprising me, Hawke.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’ve done your service. To the city, and to me. You’ve lost your _home,_ the second time you’ve lost your home. And you’re still preoccupied with making me feel better?”

She knew the statement was born of his low sense of self-worth, but it still felt like a personal attack on her. What a greedy beast she was, exploiting others’ pain so she wouldn’t have to face her own. She forced herself to not let her hurt creep into her tone.

“Well _I’m_ not the one who got into a fistfight just now,” she reasoned. “I’m simply allowing the possibility that right now you might need help more than I do. And because you need that, I can set my grief aside a moment to give it to you, if that’s at all possible.”

He turned to her with desperate eyes, such a profound look of sadness falling across his face.

“Why would you do that, though? What have I done to deserve that, after… after all that’s happened here?”

“You don’t need to earn it, Orsino.” _Does he truly not understand?_ “I want to make you happy because… because I love you. You know that. You’ve known that a long while. I’ve always been there for you when you need me, why would that change just because we’re not longer in Kirkwall?”

It was a genuine question, and one he didn’t answer. Instead, he just told her,

“I’m not sure there’s much you can do to make me feel better. I’d like to sleep, if that’s at all possible.”

“Then let’s find the crew’s quarters and turn in.” She helped him up, and, significantly burdened by injury and fatigue, they stumbled up the deck. As they did so, Hawke couldn’t resist one last look at the persistent wake behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

The tavern the party had chosen for the night was less than ideal. Hawke was thankful she’d allowed Garrett and Anders to take the room on the floor above them, for a place like this surely had leaks in the roof. She and Orsino had collapsed to the bed in exhaustion as soon as they got in - she fell asleep quickly, still in her robes, barely having kicked off her boots. By the time she awoke, the sun was nearly set. Orsino must have been up before her, or perhaps he hadn’t slept at all, for he’d lit a lantern by the bedside and was reading in its dim yellow glare.

“Hey,” Hawke muttered, still groggy. She sat up and scooted beside him. “What’ve you got there?”

“I always figured it was just a joke that all taverns had copies of the Chant of Light in the drawer,” he said dryly. “The truth of life outside the Circle continues to amaze and baffle.”

“Well, truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.”

He closed the book, setting it on the bedside table. 

“Even stranger that I felt compelled to read it. Thought I’d be rid of the damned thing without the Chantry throwing it in my face every time I stepped out of line.”

“Alas, nothing so convenient.” She rested her head on his bony shoulder, listening to the hiss of the flame. It was a rare moment of peace, oddly enough, even with the creaking of the walls and the wind drafting in through the window. To have a bed and someone to share it with was a luxury, she understood now.

Orsino clasped her hand, but he was nowhere near as relaxed as she was. There was a tension in his grip, and she sensed words were on the tip of his tongue.

“Hawke, we really do need to talk about something. I haven’t been as honest as I ought to have been.”

Her heart sank as she straightened up.  _ What could this be? _

“Alright, let’s have at it.”

“In my desperation before the fall of Kirkwall, I… I may have panicked. I did something drastic, and I feel foolish for it. And while I’m certainly not expecting you to forgive me-”

“Just tell me.” She smiled gently. “There are precious few things that could surprise me now, I feel.”

Silently, he held out his hand toward her. On his slender palm, highlighted in the glow of the lantern-

A cut too uniform to be from anything other than a blade. 

Suddenly she felt very, very tired.

“I know it’s been hard to cope, love,” she said carefully, “but as far as odd habits go, grabbing knives on the wrong end is not one I’ve heard before.”

“Hawke, please don’t joke with me right now.”

Of course. Of course this wasn’t a joking matter, but she couldn’t help it. How does one make peace without making light? Besides, she never felt more peaceful than when she was laughing. But yes, maybe such a revelation didn’t lend to humor. It wasn’t Hawke’s fault, she couldn’t help it, right? She couldn’t help acknowledging the absurdity of such a situation.

Perhaps she’d picked up some odd habits as well.

“Blood magic. You resorted to blood magic. So how long, then? I’m shocked I didn’t notice earlier, considering how our hands are so often in close proximity.”

Orsino closed his eyes, inhaling sharply.

“I’m going to let that one slide,” he told her, still tense. 

“Oh, come on. That’s not a joke, that’s just a fact.”

“You need to know,” he continued, “ _ if  _ you plan on keeping me around, that this isn’t something entirely new.”

She sobered up quick at that. He certainly wasn’t joking, his eyes were cast away from her in shame. He’d since covered up the scar on his palm as well, wringing his hands together. As far as nervous tells went, it was a common one, but she’d never seen him do it before.  _ He’s hiding something. Since when does he keep things from me? _

“How long?” she repeated, more firm this time.

“I started reading up on it a few months ago. But I, I only did it because I wasn’t sure, you know, things were looking so bad…”

“Because they were bad. And they are bad.”

“If it came down to… well, I didn’t know for sure what situation I’d need to use it in, but once I started thinking about it, suddenly there were countless possibilities.”

“Oh, pray tell, what were they?” She tried to keep the accusation out of her tone, but it absolutely slipped through without her permission.

“If they hurt you,” he said flatly. “There was some… promising information I’d read about blood magic’s promise in bringing people back from the brink of death. Not worth anything once they’d died, mind you, but maybe-”

“Wait,” she interjected. The familiar discomfort was creeping up her spine. Maker, it had been so long since she’d last felt it, but it had been such a constant after  _ that _ , she knew it well. “Promising information? From who? How did they figure it out?”

Orsino was silent. He simply hid his face in his hands, unable to speak or even look at her, and therein lay the answer. 

“ _ Fucking shit _ ,” Hawke hissed. “You  _ knew _ ?  _ You knew about him? _ ”

He turned away, and she grabbed his shoulder, forcing him back to look at her, tears in his eyes.

“ _ Fucking answer me _ .”

“I told him to stop! I even sent templars after him! I promise, I never wanted - I never  - you know I wouldn’t…”

Hawke simply shook her head. She did know. She knew very well. How many times had she witnessed him urge Circle mages away from the temptations of demons? How many times had she seen him cry after yet another committed a murder-suicide? No, Orsino would never condone what had happened to her mother. And yes, when it had happened, she’d told herself that if she ever found any more of Quentin’s associates, she’d tear them limb from limb, rip their hearts out, do things unspeakable and unthinkable in any other situation. But now, where was that rage? Why wasn’t she angry? At what point had she stopped being  _ angry _ ?

She had half a mind to tell him all this, how goddamned lucky he was that she was, inexplicably, not murderous at the mere sight of him. But instead, she said,

“You’re a damned idiot, you know.”

“I know.”

“But I’m not… I believe you, when you say you tried to stop him.”

Orsino frowned at this. Clearly this was not the outcome he’d expected.

“...Okay.” His tone was uncertain, waiting for the disclaimer.  _ But that doesn’t matter. But I won’t stay with you. But I can’t forgive you. _

“And I just… I do need to process this, you understand. I’m not saying for certain that I won’t be mad later. I…”

“But you’re… not mad right now?”

Hawke forced a smile even as hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Maybe I’m just too tired to be mad,” she choked out. A few attempts to start again yielded nothing. She finally let herself double over, stomach tight and roiling as she sobbed. Why wasn’t this pain gone? She’d thought it was gone.  _ I don’t want to feel like this my whole life. _ When it became apparent that Orsino was unsure if he should comfort her by touch, she leaned into him, squeezing him tight so there was no escape from the damage he’d done. She knew he felt guilty. It radiated from the way his whole body shook as he heard her cry. The remorse trickled from his eyes into her hair, and she knew in that moment that he was truly, truly sorry. 

But maybe that didn’t make a difference.

But maybe that was alright.

As the pain changed to a dull ache - not lessened in any way, just profoundly _ different _ \- the absence of her sobs made the air feel too quiet. It felt like her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth, how could she speak? How could she make this better? 

“I think,” she started, voice creaky, “I don’t blame you. I… understand. It, um, it won’t do either of us any good to keep thinking about the past.”

“I think I agree.”

“I just - I don’t know.” She paused for thought before continuing. The salt of the tears had begun to crust at the corners of her eyes, stinging when she blinked up at him. “I just wish you’d told me,” she said simply.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right, I should have told you. I know there’s nothing I can do to make that right, but I want you to know that if there  _ was _ a way for me to go back in time and change what I’ve done, telling you sooner would likely be the first thing I’d fix.”

“Strong words, for someone who regrets so much.”   


“Yes, well. Maybe it says something that out of all the things I could have done better with, you’re the only one still here with me.”

“Mm.” She nodded, sitting up to smile weakly at him. “You even sent templars, huh? That must have been a hard choice.”

“I knew it would reflect badly on us if he was caught, but I couldn’t just have him running around in the streets doing…  _ that _ . It was one of the easiest choices I made as…” His voice trailed off, the implication clear. He  _ had been _ First Enchanter. He was no longer. He never would be again.

“Doesn’t it drive you crazy?” she asked. “Knowing that you’ll likely never have that much power again? Limited as it was?”

He thought about it for a moment, pursing his lips and nodding.

“Yes. It drives me mad every second I allow myself to think about it. I… it was naive, but at times I really did think I could make a difference, you know? I really thought we could make a difference.”

She hadn’t expected tears to prick her eyes once more at the statement. Unwilling to be seen crying again, she got up and crossed the room to the window. The trees outside were coated with frost - her specialty, such that her fingers, perpetually chilled from ice spells, did not feel the pang of the cold when she pressed them to the glass. It was a cruel irony, she realized. What use were her exceptional abilities once the world around was saturated with them? Was this what anonymity meant - to live without title nor reputation, for one’s actions are simply part of the setting? She hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d become to people knowing her name without her knowing theirs.  _ Nearly a decade sunk in that waste of a city. _

“Yeah,” she finally agreed. “I know what you mean.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place perhaps a few weeks after the last chapter, just FYI

“Hawke?”

“Hm?” She rolled over in bed, having forced herself to sleep lightly. It seemed likely this was going to happen - any night Orsino wasn’t clinging to her was a night he was going to spend alone in his own head. As cold as she was without his embrace, she knew it didn’t compare to what he was struggling with. And as selfish as it might be, talking about someone else’s trauma distracted her from her own.  _ A chronic people-pleaser. Can’t live without helping others for her own selfish need to feel needed. Butt out!  _ That was what that one tabloid had said about her, so long ago. For all the other dubious things in that article, that one had been right.

“Do you think it ever gets easier? Being without them?”

She didn’t have to ask who “they” were. Everyone’s ghosts were different. Her younger siblings, her parents. The mages they’d both witnessed the deaths of, at their own hands and at the templars’ blades. His childhood friend, Maud, who he’d only mentioned twice, as though he could stifle the flames that killed her by suppressing his grief. It was misguided, Hawke knew. It wasn't as though one could put out a fire with silence. But, she supposed it was what he had to do to get through the day.

She squeezed his waist, snuggling closer to him. When she rubbed her hand back and forth across his skin, it was more for her comfort than his.

“Honest answer?” she murmured.

“Naturally.”

“I don’t think it gets better. I think it just gets different. It’s been different every time for me. I can’t see how this one would stray from that.”

Orsino still looked hollow as he stared at something unseen above them. He’d been looking that way more often lately, and she hoped it was the grief and not truly something only he sensed the presence of.  _ Only metaphorical demons allowed here. _ After processing her words for a minute, he nodded.

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Probably not the answer you wanted.” Her words threw her to the edge of a cliff, worried her response wasn’t satisfactory. She knew the feeling well. She’d teeter on the edge until getting affirmation that she hadn’t let him down. The rhythmic movement of her fingers pressed harder against his side, and he stayed her hand. “Sorry. For both.”

“No worries. For both.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know why I’m asking you. It’s not as though I haven’t lived this way for years.”

“Always helps to get another perspective, in my opinion.”  _ We’ve been learning from each other from the moment we met. _

“The thing is,” he continued, “I just - I can’t wrap my head around how I didn’t see it  _ coming _ . Not even Anders, I mean Meredith calling for the Rite. I  _ knew _ things were tense, I knew she was getting more and more paranoid, or at least that she was acting it. Maybe I thought it was just an act to shut us up? But I knew she was meeting with all these bigwigs who had histories of intolerance towards mages, and I saw the most brutal templars getting promoted, and even the lowest-ranking among them all seemed to have this smug smirk on their faces towards the end. I couldn’t figure out what that was about. I couldn’t piece it together. Why couldn’t I piece it together?”

“It’s hard to recognize when it’s-”

“And not even just that, it feels like it’s  _ always been like this _ . I could tell something was off about Quentin from the moment I met him, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Why did I do that?! People  _ died _ because I misplaced my faith.” He sat up, resting his forehead in his hands. A few tears dripped off his chin. “And for all the years I’d lived with the Circle, all the mages I’d watched end themselves and every time I’d been able to look back and say ‘those are the signs to watch out for’, I couldn’t tell when she was going to - I was too late-” He was cut off by a choking sob that wracked his body. Hawke sat up as well, rubbing his back as though her touch could somehow fix anything. He’d only broken down like this a few times since the destruction of Kirkwall. In her opinion, he had the right to a lot more. It would do good, to let it out.

She let him cry.

When he regained the ability to speak, he cried out,

“Am I just  _ stupid _ ? Is that it? Am I just an idiot? So much of this just comes back to my own foolishness-”

“That’s enough,” Hawke chided. “You know I refuse to hear any unkind words towards you, even if they’re coming from yourself. This isn’t… this is going to sound harsh, but this isn’t  _ about _ you. No more than it’s about any of us. It’s not about Anders blowing up the Chantry, because he wasn’t responsible for the years of oppression precluding that. It’s not about Meredith being a lyrium-mad bitch, because none of the soldiers in her command saw fit to stop her. And it’s sure as hell not about  _ you _ , with what relatively little power you had, because the fact is that there were a million things out of your hands that you were powerless to change. That’s not your fault, that’s not your weakness, that’s just life. You think - you think I haven’t wondered a thousand times over what could have been if I’d just killed that ogre before it killed Bethany? You think I haven’t replayed that fight over and over in my head, strategizing and preparing for something that was already past? When my mother… do you know I didn’t rest for weeks, not out of grief and missing her, but retracing my steps and methodically listing off every action I could have taken that would  _ change something _ ? But I can’t…  _ you _ can’t change it. You couldn’t change it.”

Her diatribe was passionate enough to at the very least distract Orsino, and he was able to gulp back another sob. He pursed his lips in thought, and she could tell he was turning it over in his mind. It was something that had always charmed her about him, how even when deep in thought he was somehow visibly bright and active. Of course, it had its downsides too. Rest did not come easy for someone who was always thinking.

“But Hawke,” he said slowly, “accepting that - that there’s forces at work I can’t control - it’s worrying. I’ve never - it’s not wrong of me to want control, right? Over some things, at least? More than what I have now?”

“Maybe not, but if you don’t make peace with the fact that some things have factors that aren’t you, there’s going to come a time when you can’t get through the day. Trust me on this, because I’ve been there.”

“Noted. But it also means the bad things aren’t my fault, but that the good things aren’t to my credit.”

“Yes, well, we could all stand to be a little more humble.” On a whim, she reached up to rub his shoulders, muscles tense and coiled, and he leaned into her touch.

“Mm. I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Just not tonight though? Please? We both need to rest.”

“That’s reasonable. Hawke?”

“Mhm.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Undoubtedly, the words calmed him, at least slightly. He lay back onto his side to face her, and, when she followed, kissed her forehead.

“You’re the only good thing to come out of that godforsaken town,” he muttered, allowing a small smile.

“Likely because I wasn’t born there.”

“How different it would be if you had been.”

“Think I’d be dead twice over by now,” Hawke smirked. “Brat that I was, Kirkwall wouldn’t tolerate that. I think farm children are a special breed of troublemaker.”

“Do tell.” He was definitely more alert now, unable to pass up hearing something that could be used to jab at her later.

“One time I froze the mud in the neighbors’ pigsty so we could use it as an ice rink.”

“Well, that’s just innovation.”

“Tell that to my mother. The spell wore off eventually, and those clothes were simply never the same.” She smiled despite herself, despite the memory of her mother. How lovely it would be to hear that scolding now. “It might have also helped that I’d switched the sugar for salt the day before. She’d made cookies for the sisters at the Chantry without realizing. And that’s how I almost got my entire family accused of sabotage and blasphemy.”

Orsino gave a tired chuckle at that.

“They should’ve kept you on a leash.”

“Ooh, and there was the time I set the mabari loose!”

“Hawke!”

“Oh, as if you never got up to mischief as a child.”

“Yes, but never anything so destructive. Oh, what did I do… one time, I think I might have been about ten, Maud and I learned how to make these little paper cranes.” His voice didn’t even crack on her name, Hawke noticed, which was a pleasant surprise, if perhaps a fluke. “And we made dozens of them with our notebook paper and hid them in odd places all over the Gallows. Why did we do it? I have no clue. I do remember how we’d giggle and nudge each other whenever we walked past one. It was our little inside joke. Oh, and the Templars were furious. ‘Whoever has the time to be doing this should be more focused on their studies.’ I suppose the joke was on both sides, because we ran out of notebook paper and they wouldn’t give us more, so we couldn’t take notes in class for a month. It was the first and only test I ever failed.”

“You devil child,” Hawke smirked. “You rabblerouser. You absolute madman, I’m surprised the Circle didn’t fall into rebellion years ago, with a delinquent like you running about.”

“The funny thing is, we actually thought all that, but without the sarcasm. Just allowing ourselves to have  _ fun _ once in a while felt like we were taking down the establishment.”

“That’s equal parts hilarious and depressing, don’t do this to me.”

“It gave us the illusion of hope-” 

“It is too late at night for you to be making me feel things. You know my brain’s like a dark alley - it’s not safe to venture out after sunset.” She gently patted his face. His skin was so pale it almost glowed in the moonlight. “Remember the first time I spent the night with you, and I didn’t know elves’ eyes glowed in the dark? And you would have scared the pants off me, had I been wearing pants?”

“That was hardly the most eventful thing that happened that night, so forgive me that it slipped my mind.”

Hawke yawned. 

“Still startles me sometimes. That and how quiet you are when you walk. Can’t you just… I don’t know, bump into things a little more often when you’re moving around? I’d like some warning.”

“Yes, I’ll make a note to crash about like a wild creature every time I need to get something. I’ll be covered in bruises by the end of the week.”

“Hm. On second thought, I don't much like the idea of anything other than my teeth giving you bruises.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Oh, you walked right into that one. That’s my god-given right as your girlfriend, to make jokes like that.” She nestled up against him. “Good night, dear. Dream of my love bites, why don’t you?”

“I…” He very nearly agreed to it, before kissing her hair once more and settling in. “Good night, love.”


	4. Chapter 4

“When you said you had plans, I was hoping it meant this,” Orsino admitted, looking fondly at Hawke, who stood before him with hands on hips in her bathrobe.

“It’s been a while,” she agreed, undoing her belt and spreading her arms wide, allowing herself to indulge in the satisfaction of his gaze sweeping over her body. It felt nice to be desired, to be loved, to be held - his hands clasped around her waist, his lips to her neck. She nearly collapsed under the weight of the affection. It had been longer than they were willing to admit. Anxiety was its own kind of aphrodisiac, and there was an unspoken truth between them that they’d stopped making love well before they’d had to flee Kirkwall - in the midst of the fear they’d both felt, sex had became little more than a momentary distraction. Hawke did want to apologize for it. One day. Not today.

And if anxiety tentatively spurred libido, grief crushed it without a second thought. Mourning was a non-starter to foreplay. Oil and water. 

No matter. Time had passed, the pair had traveled with their friends to Amaranthine. Hawke had memories of visiting the city once as a young child. It was dirtier now than she remembered.

“Love, slow down,” she giggled as he lowered his face to her chest. “Let’s take the time to enjoy it, right?”

Orsino froze, obviously surprised. Straightening up, he looked her in the eye, face flushed. Even now, he seemed tired. But that was no deterrent, evidently.

“Sorry,” he murmured, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek. “I’m just excited. But you’re right. As always.” He punctuated the statement with a kiss upon her nose, and she grinned. 

“And take that damned binder off.”

He laughed, nodding. As he undid the clasps, Hawke perched on the edge of the bed. Bare-chested, he stood before her, hands on hips with a playful smile across his face. 

“And what would you have me do next?”

“Just hold still a moment.” He shifted closer when she wrapped her arms around his narrow waist and threaded his fingers through her hair. For a few moments she remained still, cheek nuzzled into the gap in the center of his ribs, unable to differentiate between the swift thud of his heart and the beat of the rain outside. She didn’t have to look up to know the face he was making, smile gentle and eyes soft but never without worry -  _ oh Hawke, you tender soul, whatever will we do with you -  _ and her own heart momentarily leapt to her throat. He’d never not worry about her. She knew that. How worth it, then, to provide a distraction once more.

Lifting her head, she began kissing up his chest, across his breastbone, acutely aware of how he no longer tensed when she gravitated to the part of himself she knew he found most reprehensible. His breasts, while still holding some weight, were small, much smaller than hers in a way that admittedly made her envious. They could easily be hidden with layers and loose clothing, and yet… well, at least he’d learned how to sew while making binders for himself. She recalled the time he’d asked her if she hated his chest as much as he did. She recalled his utter surprise when she answered,

_ “How could I ever hate something that’s a part of you?” _

There were much darker things that were also integral to him. She knew this. She embraced them nonetheless. 

Besides, there was no such thing as bad tits.

So no, the tension did not come when her lips met his torso, rather, it came when her teeth began to dig in, closer and closer to his nipple, and it came with soft gasps and gentle tugging at her hair. His pale skin had always bruised easily, and she anticipated the blossoming of purple in the coming days. Harder, harder, a slight tilt to her head to bring her pointed canines against his- 

“Hawke…”

“I know, I know. A bit much. Sorry.” It wasn’t as though he hadn’t admonished her before, but it was hard to restrain herself when excited. Testing limits with him had always been fun - she liked hearing him cry out.

“Now who’s overzealo- oh!” She heard the smile in his voice as she lapped at the bite marks, hoping to soothe them some with the warmth of her mouth. Maker, the way he sighed and melted into her… it sent chills down her spine, and took her considerable effort to fight back a full body shiver. No time for that now that they were getting into it.

Without warning, he withdrew from her, and she was left with the cold air against her face, jaw agape like a fool.

“What-”

He laughed a bit at her expression and shook his head.

“You make me weak, Hawke. I swear, the way you’re teasing me… you’re going to bring me to my knees.”

“I like you on your knees.”

“I’m well aware,” he deadpanned. They shared a laugh, cut short when Hawke spread her legs to reveal her slit, pink and shiny with slick.

“Well, get on with it then,” she purred. 

The sight of him below her never failed to please, especially with the eager twitch of his lip into a smirk as he kneeled before her. Maker, to have such power over him - it drove her nearly mad. Even more so when he insisted on coyly kissing up her thighs, running his hands down her waist,  _ Maker, hurry up- _

Her frustration must have been evident, because her train of thought was broken by the sound of him laughing quietly against her.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re  _ so easy _ to get wound up.”

“Yes? And what of it?” She couldn’t bring herself to be truly annoyed, not with the look of pure adoration he was beaming up at her. This is what it used to be like. To return to this enjoyable act of lovemaking, instead of just fucking - it meant they were moving on, didn’t it? The color had come back into his cheeks, the light back into her eyes, and the two of them were more alive than they’d been in months.

“I like it. I like it a lot.” He ran a finger down her slit, and she shivered, thighs clenching just enough to meet the tips of his pointed ears. Finally unable to wait, he pressed his tongue to her cunt. Hawke gasped. His mouth was always so  _ hot _ , closing around her clit, his tongue very nearly a flame licking her skin. She knew that their chosen forms of magic came into play during sex - she knew that he always jolted at her icy touch, that he’d likened her mouth on his tits to a chilled shower on a hot day. But these were just the uncontrollable consequences of the spells they cast, a constant reminder of their blessings. There had never been a conscious decision to compound the sins of spellcasting and lovemaking. Hawke made a mental note to ask about it next time.

But for now, for now he was there between her legs, and she couldn’t help but grin at how good it felt. She gently arched her hips into him, and they both moaned quietly. 

“Please - lower-”

Orsino obeyed, dipping his head slightly to slide his tongue inside her.

“Fuck, just like that, yes…” she breathed, trailing her fingers through his hair. “As deep as you can go, please, oh-”

As if to hold her down, his grip around her thighs tightened, and his nails dug into the soft flesh of her hips in a manner that was not quite painful, but certainly uncomfortable in a way that made her feel a tad ashamed for liking it so much. It certainly aided him in moving his tongue a bit deeper into her cunt, and the excited flutter of her heart was beginning to drown out the sounds the two of them were making. It was rather nice how he sighed against her when he did this, obviously enjoying it. She couldn’t wait to return the favor. Tension was building in her belly, and she knew her release was coming. With a groan, she wrapped her legs around his shoulders, calloused heels scraping the smooth skin of his back.

“Look up at me, love,” she gasped. “I want to…” She trailed off when he opened his eyes, gaze intense as they made eye contact, fuck, she could never get over how beautiful he was, there was never a way to describe the  _ exact  _ shade of his eyes, it was so frustrating, frustrating, made her want to dig her fists into the sheets and cry out and  _ let go- _

Oh, bless him, he kept at it perfectly as she came, pulling his hair and bucking her hips… her breath left her body all at once at the end, shoulders dropping while she panted. For his part, Orsino took his time getting up from the floor, kissing her thighs and belly more sweetly now. A drop of sweat rolled down Hawke’s brow as he kissed her lips, feverishly, and she was reminded that while her desire was sated, his was not. She threw her arms around him and rolled to drag him onto the bed, nipping hard at his lips. It was tempting to draw a bit of blood, the way he yelped when she sunk her teeth in. It was cute. He was cute, plain and simple. And though it clearly hurt, he certainly wasn’t complaining. Especially when she reached down, forgoing the anticipation provided by caressing his chest and waist in favor of rubbing through the front of his underwear. He squeezed his slender thighs together, seeking release.

“You’re already so wet,” she murmured.

“Not as though you give me much choice.” He slipped out of his underwear, his clit large and pink and swollen beneath, and Hawke was reminded of just how much she enjoyed going down on  _ him _ . She took his jaw in her other hand, locking eyes.

“How do you want me?” 

The words had a strong effect on him, and he closed his eyes briefly as though her gaze was too much.

“I want you to fuck me with your hand.”

“Oh, like this?” she teased, drawing a finger up the outside of his lips, so close to where he needed it, but not nearly close enough to provide enough pleasure. He cussed under his breath, breathed her name before kissing her as though to plead for her hand on his cunt. Hawke acknowledged this by lightly brushing his clit with her thumb, applying gradually more pressure as she circled it. Orsino broke their kiss, nuzzling into her shoulder. She knew he got embarrassed looking so vulnerable, and allowed it, even tracing her fingers along his neck to reassure him it was fine. However, she did mutter, “You’re going to have to let me watch your face when you cum, you know.”

“Mm.”

“Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so  _ good _ ,” he sighed near her ear, kissing her neck to the best of his albeit compromised ability. Hawke appreciated the effort, and doubled her own by sliding two fingers down his slit, which was intensely hot against the chill of her fingertips. “Fuck, Hawke-”

“What do you want?” she purred.

“You  _ know _ -”

“But I want to hear you say it.” Her tone was firm enough to startle him, and she took the opportunity to roll him fully onto his back, slinging a leg over one of his. Fuck, the way his lips parted in pleasure, a bit swollen from her teeth. It was so lovely, his sex-flushed skin, high in his cheeks and on the tips of his ears and right above his collarbone. Despite knowing how he was occasionally uncomfortable being scrutinized, she couldn’t resist staring, even as she rolled his clit between two fingers, causing him to arch up against her hand.

“ _ I want your fingers inside me,”  _ he gasped out, quickly, as if he’d lose the words by waiting. 

With a smirk, she entered him, his wet cunt halfway up her fingers. He took her in readily, having been worked up so well by now. Slowly, she bobbed her hand, deeper and deeper until her knuckles grazed his entrance. He moaned, unable to resist smiling at finally getting what he wanted. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. She could have (and in encounters past, had) kept him waiting far longer.

“Oh, oh, oh-”

“You like it when I fuck you like that?”

“Yes, oh, yes-”

“You want it harder?”

“ _ Yes,  _ fuck!” She could have sworn he smiled wider at the suggestion. Without hesitation, she slammed her fingers into his cunt, bending her thumb so it would hit the tip of his clit with each thrust. It was awe-inspiring, how such a small change in her actions could get such a rise out of him. Maker, but he was  _ loud _ when he was getting fucked. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” It took all she had to keep her composure, not to give away how much her heart swelled to see him so unabashedly enjoying himself for the first time in what seemed like forever. “I love you.”

“I, I love y- oh, Hawke, I’m-”

“You’d better not cum yet,” she commanded, unable to resist a switch back to her domineering play. His eyes pleaded desperately up at her, tears forming in the corners.

“Ple-”

“No, you’ll cum when I say you can.” She curved her fingers a bit more inside him. “Hold it back, dear, I want to enjoy this a while longer.”   


“I can’t, I can’t, oh, Hawke!” She felt him clench around her, fuck, he really couldn’t stop himself, so as consolation she studied him intently as he came, trying as best she could to memorize every detail of his face, his breath, the way his stomach tightened as he rode the climax out… all of it, utterly mesmerizing.  _ Is this how he feels when he watches me? _

She knew immediately when he was done, falling weakly against the mattress. Slowly so as not to hurt him, she withdrew her hand. After a moment’s consideration, she pressed the fingers to his lip, and he almost laughed before sucking them clean. 

“So you know how good you taste.”

“Hawke, I swear, one of these days you’re going to kill me.”

She laughed loudly at that, all restraint gone. Now she held him close, dragging her hand over the ridges of his ribs, down to rub circles over his pale, flat belly. He covered her hand with his own, locking their fingers together. With her head rested on his chest, snuggled under his arm, she was undoubtedly secure and grounded, but couldn’t shake the euphoric sensation of floating. 

“I’m glad we finally did that,” Orsino sighed.

“Mm.” She closed her eyes.

“I never get over how good you are at this.”

“ _ We’re _ very good at this. Doesn’t mean a thing without someone to share with.” 

“You’re really going to lie to my face? After I caught you going solo just last night?”

“Alright, alright. But it doesn’t compare. We’re a good pair. Despite whatever other faults we may have.”

“I agree.” He was silent for a few moments, where their steadying breath was the only sound in the room. At some point the rain had stopped, she hadn’t realized it. “It’s been a while since it’s been like that, hasn’t it?”

“Yes. I’m sorry about that.”  _ Perhaps we will be doing this tonight. _ She tried to ignore how her voice trembled on the apology. Why? It wasn’t as though she truly blamed herself for it, and she already knew he wouldn’t either. And sure enough, he shook his head, resting his cheek to her forehead. He was blushing intensely, she could feel it.

“It’s no one’s fault,” he insisted. “We were both too stressed. But part of me is glad we tried to keep it up anyway. Makes it easier to get back into it now, I suppose.”

“You’re right.” Hawke chuckled softly. “I’m excited for the future. Not just our sex life, to be clear. Though that’s certainly a good portion.” Her tone grew wistful as she continued. “I can’t wait to get up to some more of the novel shenanigans we’ve tried.”

She could feel Orsino smile against her hair, and was glad she could give him a more rosy view of the past.

“We’ll have to be inventive. I no longer have an office desk for you to hide under. Though perhaps that’s a good thing, considering how I felt I might pass out trying to keep a straight face.”

“Your lack of faith wounds me!” she teased. “As if I can’t find a million other ways to get the same effect. So long as you promise to go to the same lengths for me. Do you know how many times I’ve had to get off on the mere memory of you using that strap-on with me?”

“Damn, I do wish we had that. It’s still in my room in the Gallows. Some templar is going to search the drawers and be forced to some hard conclusions.”

“Good, I hope it scars them for life.”

They collapsed into giggles once more, clutching each other tighter. Once they were eventually quiet, it stretched on a bit long. When Orsino spoke again, his voice was softer. “I don’t mean to make the mood too serious-”

“No, by all means.”

“Just being able to be happy with you, it reminds me of how lucky I am. I’m grateful, you know. That we still have each other. I half expected - I don’t know. It’s stupid. For the longest time, I worried my failings would finally push you away from me.”

“On the contrary,” Hawke told him. “Your failings make you more real. It’s been a privilege to have you by my side.” Despite the weight of the moment, she felt sleep looming over her head, and closed her eyes. “Rest assured, dear - I’ve never loved you more than I love you now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the first line I wrote of this whole fic ended up being the last by time I finished. I heard the phrase "I've never loved you more than I love you now" in Ezra Furman's song Suck the Blood From My Wound, and the words and the delivery just tugged at my heartstrings so much that I decided I had to write fic with that line.
> 
> Thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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